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You don’t try if you think you’re going to fail.
Obviously Ryan was the negative influence—he had to be! It couldn’t possibly be that Nico was growing a backbone, finally starting to see that he couldn’t control other people, that he couldn’t control what happened to him.
“You probably think it’s true love forever.” The thundercloud turned to rain—quiet, soft, heartbreaking. “It could be.”
“Don’t.” He hated to beg, but he didn’t have a choice. “Don’t what?” Nico argued. He took a step closer, touched Ryan’s elbow again. Ryan’s heart tripped in his chest. “Don’t tell you I love you?”
“What’s wrong?” Yorkie ran a hand through his hair. “They traded Nico.”
Nico closed his eyes and let go of the hope. “Indianapolis International.” He should’ve known that it wouldn’t be that easy.
and walked into the house. It was quiet. Heart sinking, Ryan called out, “Nico?” No answer.
“I want to be able to tell you when I love someone without worrying that my agent will get angry.”
“We’re missing a key part of the team, and that’s hard.” The dark circles under his eyes spoke to how hard it was. Or maybe he’d been having trouble sleeping again. “Obviously I miss Nicky around the house too—cooking for one gets tedious—but at least I’m not losing at chess anymore.”
Late last night, the Office of the United States Attorney for the Southern District of Indiana filed charges against Rees and Vorhees for their roles in an alleged gambling and sports-fixing scheme.
No one’s gonna replace Grouch, least of all me. He’d meant that he couldn’t be Nico’s replacement… but it was also true that he’d never find a replacement for Nico.
I like you a lot. Please don’t go into anaphylaxis.
Nico had moved a white pawn to E4, his classic opening. There was a note. I meant it, Nico had written. Then, beneath that, Your move.
There was nothing, nothing like the feeling when the puck hit the back of the net, when his teammates slammed into him, when the crowd erupted for him, in his new city, his first playoff goal.
And if he’d listened to Chop Wood Carry Water before bed, no one had to know. It put him in a good frame of mind to get some rest, as that one flight with Nico showed.
“Hey, ba—uh, hey.” Nico could hear the smile in his voice, as well as some sheepishness. He couldn’t help a reaction of his own; the back of his neck went hot. Had Ryan almost called him babe in a room full of his teammates?
“I’m definitely wondering,” Ryan said firmly. So much wondering was happening.
He was halfway down the tunnel when a sharp choked-off noise caught his attention, and he turned. Ryan stood a few meters away, watching him with wide eyes.
“Ryan—” “Oh fuck this,” Ryan muttered, and Nico braced himself for his inevitable retreat.
And then he pushed Nico up against it and kissed him.
Ryan leaned his forehead against Nico’s chest. “God, I—I really missed you.”
Then the woman’s gaze fell on him. “Oh, hey, Captain von Thirst Trap. We meet at last. Don’t worry, Ryan can introduce us later. But seriously, hurry it up unless you’re ready for, like, a Fraternizing with the Enemy speech. Okay bye!”
He half laughed. “I think I preferred ‘Grouch.’” “I’m kinda partial to ‘sweetheart.’” He smiled—a slow, soft thing. “Or ‘Nicky.’”
“I have to go to practice. You—” He leaned forward until his forehead butted against Nico’s chest plate. “Give us hell tomorrow.”
THE GAME was— The game— The game was the most beautiful hockey Ryan had ever played.
But on the ice, every pass was perfect. Every check was pure. And there was so much room. Ryan’s legs burned after every shift. His heart never left the ice.
Nico skated by the German bench for his congratulations, but he looked over at Ryan afterward, flushed with pleasure. It was very difficult, but Ryan refrained from mouthing that was hot.
When Nico shook his hand, Ryan reached out with his left and pulled Nico’s head down until their helmets touched. “You were fucking amazing.”
Nico grabbed the small of his back. So this was definitely going on the internet.
“I still want that date.” Nico knocked their helmets together. “Go win the gold, then.” Ryan would.
“It’s just adrenaline.” He had, he knew, started using his “serial-killer monotone” as Ella liked to call it, but he couldn’t help it. It surfaced when he was stressed.
Nico grinned. “Congratulations. I’m so proud of you.” “Shut up,” Ryan muttered, but he didn’t stop smiling. Nico couldn’t help it. He took Ryan’s face in both hands and kissed him—hard, passionate, and way too short.
“Have fun tonight, Liebling,” he whispered and forced himself to step back.
“I love you.” The elevator doors dinged open. Nico backed out of them, grinning. “I know.”
“I fucking missed you,” Ryan sighed against his mouth, scoring his teeth over Nico’s lower lip. “God, I missed you so much.”
Which just left one further order of business. “Hey, Nico?” Ryan asked as he started running the water in the tub. Nico glanced up. “Hmm?” “Knight takes C7.” He paused. “Checkmate.”
Dante stage-whispered to Martin, “We should have brought popcorn.”
“The Orcas”—Nico’s gaze sharpened—“they made an offer. A good one.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Fuck, Nico, next year, it’s you and me, babe. We’re playing together, on the same team.”
